I just got back from Ishara International Puppet Festival at India Habitat Center. It was the last day of the festival and I was lucky enough to be a part of it. The two performances there tonight were- The flying flower and The little blue planet. I was accompanied by…
Creative Writing
The want of a sky To fly really high The want of a voice To shout beyond the sky The want of a lightning To mute that cry The want of a roof To save if it strikes The want of a living To survive under roof The want of…
I desire calmness Let calmness be mine The blood spilled From my brush It drops I desire silence Let silence be mine The river flows Through my eyes It trickles I desire emotions Let emotions be mine The passions soar From my heart They flee I desire contentment Let contentment…
Walking down the lane, I saw A city illuminated with happy faces life in its full vigour, but I: alienated, aloof Their joys are not enough to appease my heart of the irrevocable sorrow. A cry went unheard amidst the joys of people It was not music any longer A…
I saw my face today I find it bland I find it trite I was born with it It has changed with time They say it is mine Some say it is pretty Some say it is nice. I painted it. I painted it black. It was dark It was…
On my way back from office the cab driver took a new route, from posh localities of South Delhi to dingy streets of North Delhi. There was a very strange attribute of this journey pertaining to the mass of varied smells that I came across. It seemed I was crossing…
What if Blue were the trees And green was the sky? Flowers would scream And planets would cry. What if Birds were to crawl And snail was to fly? Flies would swim And rivers would dry. What if Stars came down And up went the rye? Moon would…
A giant green monster Moved behind my bed While I ran for cover He stood still instead He had big bright blue eyes And a little round red nose Harmless as he seemed I moved a little bit close As his yellow tattered boot Made noises loud and hard I…
Why? Why do we have blogs? Why do I have a blog? Why do I need a blog to write on? Is it my narcissism? Isn’t my writing my very own — too precious — to be put up for a public display? Do I write for fame or acclaim?…
खड़ा धनुरधर रणभूमि में हर मुश्किल से लड़ जाने को। है मन दबंग, छिड़ गयी जंग निर्भय, अडिग मिट जाने को। है कहाँ श्याम इस क्षण में इसे हित अनहित समझाने को? हे पार्थ! जो तुमने साधा बाण होगी अति जीवन की हानि क्रोध में बस है झूठी शान जायेगी…